riptide
by momtara
Summary: Emma Gilbert begins to entertain the idea that she is falling in love with Bella Hartley. / Or, in a world of enchanted islands and mythical creatures, two mermaids fall in love. One-shot. Pure, unadulterated fluff. Post-series-ish.


It all happens so fast. Bella's head has barely grazed the surface of the water when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders. She draws a breath and finds herself surrendering to a stranger's embrace. Her own arms wrap around a slender waist, aware of the scales beneath her hands, the same as her own. Tendrils of damp blonde hair tickle her cheek, and she swears she knows this feeling.

"You must be Bella!" The voice that chimes in her ear and echoes through the moon pool is eerily familiar, though Bella is certain she has never heard it before.

"Then you must be Emma," she realises aloud. Still enveloped in her arms, her smile only grows. "It's so great to finally meet you!"

Emma breaks their embrace but meets her gaze, avidly friendly. "Likewise! The girls have told me so much about you."

A rush of colour rises to Bella's cheeks, twin flames on either side of her face, burning, burning, burning. "Oh yeah?" she laughs, the sound clipped and manic. "All good things, I hope."

She takes her in for the first time; Emma's smile is dazzlingly bright, her nose wide and freckled, her eyes the colour of ice. Her skin glistens softly in the light of the pool. The scales of her mermaid form climb up her chest and around her neck, gold against the silver of her skin. It occurs to Bella as she drinks in her view of the other mermaid that her hands haven't left Emma's waist.

But Emma has hardly noticed. She nods and says, "I can't believe you've been a mermaid since you were nine!"

Bella's hands slip from her waist as she peers over her new friend's shoulder. Sitting on the edge of the pool, twin tails dipped in the water, are Rikki and Cleo, silently staring daggers into the back of Emma's head. Bella tries not to dwell on the fact that this is the first time she has noticed their presence in the moon pool.

She narrows her eyes. "Well, yeah," she chuckles, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "When did you guys change?"

Emma's expression darkens as she turns to face the others. Bella is suddenly struck by how motherly she looks as she folds her arms and purses her lips, waiting for a response from Rikki and Cleo. Their faces turn sheepish in the muted light.

What ensues is a lighthearted argument, a lot of giggling, and a strange and familiar feeling that settles in her heart, digging in its stubborn heels and making its home there.

* * *

Watching Bella with the band is like watching Cleo with the dolphins at the Marine Park, Lewis experimenting in the science labs at school, or Rikki guzzle a plate of burgers during their weekly sleepovers; she is truly in her element. Emma has never seen anything like it. Bella is quick, intuitive, observant, moving through the rehearsal with ease, feeding off the audience's energy and acting on instinct as she soars through the harmonies and melodies. Her ability to command a crowd is nothing short of mesmerising. Somehow, she makes even Nate sound good.

Emma wonders if her quiet electricity, her enviable magnetism, her quick wit, her lilting voice and her keen observations are a side effect of being a mermaid, or simply a side effect of being Bella Hartley.

As the rehearsal draws to a close, Emma makes her way to the counter, leaning over a stack of magazines to bark her order at Zane. She is sure to inject a measured amount of venom into her voice. Just because Rikki has forgiven him for what he did to the moon pool, she muses as she glares into the back of his head, doesn't mean that she has to. Offering a strained smile, she pays for her drink, plucks a magazine from the pile, and takes her seat next to Lewis and Cleo.

While the rest of the band pack up their equipment, Nate and Bella grab a table, speaking in hushed tones. From this particular vantage point, however, Emma can hear every word of their conversation. She is not eavesdropping. No, she tells herself, she is simply showing a vested interest in the band.

"If we're really thinking about going on tour this summer, we'll need a name. A _real _name." Bella nods in response, taking a sip of her mango and pineapple smoothie. Her favourite. "How about… Nate's Angels?" offers Nate. He gestures wildly as if to illustrate his point.

Seemingly used to his antics by now, Bella only smirks. "You do know our band is mainly made up of guys, right?" she reminds him. "Do you really want to call Jason and Cam your 'angels'?"

Nate turns a noxious shade of green, just as theatrical as Emma remembers, and says, "What if we combine our names?" The immediacy of his response strikes her. Clearly, this is not the first time such an idea has occurred to him. "How about… Natebella? Or… Bellanate? Or we could—"

"We'll keep those two on standby," Bella interjects. Once again, the depth of her patience surprises Emma, a quality that she herself has not yet mastered. She catches her eye and grins. The simplest of actions is enough to soften her heart. She turns back to Nate and says, "Let's keep brainstorming."

It occurs to Emma that she might be caught if her staring continues, so she buries her face in the magazine. Across from her, Cleo and Lewis discuss the pros and cons of various ocean circulation models, their voices fading away into nothingness. She leafs through the pages in her lap. Words jump out at her in bold print and fine typeface: 5 signs you've found your true love; how to find love after a break-up; 100 people answer questions about love; A-Listers discuss their love lives. Love, love, love. The concept evades her.

Emma is pulled from her reverie by the sight of a three-piece suit at Nate and Bella's table. From his Italian leather shoes to his briefcase and megawatt smile, everything about him screams business. His booming voice travels through the air, and she listens intently to catch the end of their conversation, but she can only make out bits and pieces. "So talented… up-and-coming... lights, crew, backing vocals… interested in new directions… maybe even a record deal." She tries to subtly catch her friends' attention, waving at Cleo and Lewis. The pair pore over her laptop with matching expressions, engrossed, oblivious.

She rolls her eyes and turns to peer over her shoulder, trying to remain inconspicuous. Bella offers a hand for the man to shake at the same time that Nate pulls him into a tight hug. Emma dissolves into giggles, and Cleo and Lewis look up from the screen just as Bella approaches their table.

"You guys," Bella gushes, unable to contain her excitement. "That was a talent scout from Casablanca Records. He wants to take the band on a six-week tour across Queensland! Can you believe it?"

Between all the smiles, the laughter, the congratulatory words and the embrace she fits in so well, it occurs to Emma that joy looks absolutely beautiful on her. The revelation, all the same, is bittersweet. Yes, she has known for months and months that Cleo plans to join Lewis at the Marine Biology Institute in the autumn. She knows, too, that Rikki has been accepted to the most prestigious business school in the Gold Coast, while she herself plans to attend medical school halfway across the country in just a few months' time. Even so, as Bella starts to plan the next six, she is struck by how much she will miss the mermaid she has only known a matter of weeks.

For the first time, Emma begins to entertain the idea that she is falling in love with Bella Hartley.

* * *

Bella has seen the shores of dozens of islands in the South Pacific, the sea caves of Galway and the frigid waters of Reykjavik, but there is nothing quite like this. No, nothing could compare to the pure, unadulterated beauty of the Gold Coast, its miles and miles of fine sand and the ocean wild before her. The place she now calls home is incomparable as Bella treads through the dunes, the sun beginning to set. She glows here. The lilac sky is a warm embrace, the smell of summer and sea salt in the air, the breeze weaving through her hair like the gentle hands of a lover. A half moon hangs, suspended in the sky. There is nothing but the sound of the wind and the sea.

Although she must admit that, with the right company, anywhere can be her paradise. Emma is distracted, her eyes fixed on some spot in the distance, and Bella follows her gaze. The waves pursue each other, perpetual. Emerging from the water is a figure silhouetted by the sun; a boy, she realises, with striking blonde curls and an athletic physique. There is a surfboard tucked beneath his arm as he approaches two or three others. Emma waves, once, and casts her eyes to the ground.

They take a seat on a dry patch of sand. Bella folds her legs beneath her. "Who's that?" she finds herself asking.

"He is…" There is a sad smile on Emma's lips, a subtle melancholy in her eyes as she weighs her words. "Someone from a different life."

Her face screws up in confusion. "A different life?"

A gust of wind caresses her honey-coloured hair, and she hides behind the golden strands. "The life of… of someone normal." Her gaze remains on the indigo sea. "Someone who's not me."

Bella doesn't know what to say, so they sit in amicable silence. The seagulls cry overhead, raucous shrieks, just as the red sun begins to kiss the horizon. Wave after wave spills onto the shore, hugging the pale sand. The light wanes. The wind howls. The sea turns violet.

She has to ask. "Do you miss anything," Bella wonders, "about being a regular girl?"

"Sometimes." She meets her stare, those bright eyes a colour she could never put a name to. Sapphire, cerulean, turquoise, cobalt, lapis, aquamarine; nothing could come close to describing Emma's eyes, their strange, cool warmth, that icy blue that always seems to shine. "You know I started swimming competitively when I was just six months old?"

At this, Bella shakes her head, and Emma's expression grows fond. "I used to be a champion on the swim team," she adds.

As always, Bella is impressed, though not surprised. She toys with the jewel at her neck. "Is that right?" she says, raising a brow. "Are you bad at _anything_?"

Emma laughs, the sound light and silvery, ducking her head. Modesty, joy, chagrin, regret, rage and tranquility, grief and love; everything looks beautiful on her, Bella is slowly discovering. "I miss not having to keep secrets from everyone," she admits after a beat. Her brows slope downward, her usual smile missing. "My family, especially."

At this a thousand memories come crashing down: her stomach in knots as she fumbles for a towel; the weight of her mermaid's tail keeping the bathroom door firmly shut; the long, tense silences punctuated by endless questions. These thoughts alone cause her pulse to race with abandon. No one else but her fellow sisters could ever understand.

"Tell me about it," she sighs.

"Can't tell them I'm a mermaid," Emma continues without missing a beat, her eyes on the roaring surf. "Can't tell them I like girls." She laughs once, the sound a little strangled. "I've never told anyone that before, actually. Sorry."

"No," Bella breathes, her heart in her throat. She reaches out to squeeze her hand. Her skin is soft to the touch, but electric beneath her own. She has always known Emma as a set of contradictions, impossibilities and oppositions. "I'm glad you told me."

Emma looks at her. There is something in her eyes she has never seen, not once. The solemnity of her stare steals her breath. Even in her human form, she is just as enchanting as ever.

Soft as a whisper, she leans in. "What do you miss?"

On any other night, Bella might have a lengthy answer. She might have missed the feeling of wet sand between her toes, hot showers on cold nights, raindrops on her skin. Pool parties and surfing lessons and steam rooms. Oh, she might miss the trust she used to have in her family, the feeling that she could confide in them, tell them anything, reveal her thorniest secrets. She might miss the friendships she had to break and the loves that would always remain unrequited. She might have missed the solace that water once offered her, not the fear, the danger of exposure.

But here, on this night, she shares the whole sea with a person who is stubborn and driven and compassionate, keen and astute, gracious and neurotic, anxious and dependable, contrary, unscrupulous, fragile, and truly, utterly, unconditionally _magic_. Her person. Her everything.

She is sure of her answer.

"Nothing," says Bella. "Nothing at all."

* * *

University both reaches and exceeds every one of Emma's expectations. She excels in all of her classes, making fast friends in each, poring over textbooks with seasoned professors who grow exceptionally fond of their top student. Her penchant for athleticism causes her to try every sport on campus that doesn't involve water, yet ignoring her favourite element has been less of a challenge than she anticipated; by some miracle, there is a massive bathtub right in her dorm room, big enough for a mermaid's tail. It feels fated, somehow. Here, she knows, is where she belongs.

Still, she can't help but feel a little homesick. She misses Rikki's café and the movie theatre back home, the view of the wide canals, Mako Island drowned in moonlight. She misses her front porch and the marina at daybreak beneath a searing sun. She misses her sisters, Cleo and Rikki, misses her family, sometimes even finds herself missing Lewis. She misses Harrison Bennett's shark-like eyes, Ms Chattham's lonely smile, the dolphins in the lagoon, the wallpaper in Cleo's room and Rikki's surly cat.

But there is one person she misses more than she has ever missed anyone before.

"Hi."

Emma would know that voice anywhere. A smile pulls on her lips as she meets the hopeful face. "Hi," she responds.

It must have taken her hours, _hours_, to swim here, she thinks. After all, Sydney is almost a ten hour drive from the Gold Coast. She makes her way to the water's edge and crouches down. With a quick, cursory glance to make sure they don't have an audience, she abandons her backpack and tries to judge the depth of the water. Deep enough, she thinks.

Bella probably hasn't stopped swimming since she left the Gold Coast, yet she shows no sign of exertion or tiredness as she meets her eyes. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," she says in a voice so even, so level, not a hint of breathlessness to it. The most level-headed member of their small sisterhood is full of surprises. Emma is in awe of her.

"No," she says, grinning. "I'm not."

She finds herself leaning in. From this distance—all distances, really—she is staggeringly, unfairly, heartbreakingly pretty. Nevertheless, she feels nothing but peace when she brushes Bella's lips with hers. Her touch is gentle as a whisper, the taste of forever on her lips. The kiss is brief enough that Emma doesn't transform, but long enough for her to know that Bella Hartley is the greatest gift she has ever known, greater than a mermaid's tail or magical powers or an island enchanted by the moon.

"I…" Bella gulps but seems to dismiss her uncertainties with a shake of her head. "I think I'm in love with you."

Emma beams. Before she knows it, her head is breaking the water, her tail extended behind her as she succumbs to her greatest power. "That's a pity," she tells her, wrapping her arms and running her fingers through damp, golden locks.

Her face screws up in confusion, and Emma's heart soars at the sight. "Why?" her love croaks.

Bella's hands are at her waist, her touch soft and tentative. Emma presses their foreheads together, leaning into her touch, blissfully happy. "Because," she promises, sealing the vow with a faithful kiss, "I _know _I'm in love with you."

The next dozen kisses are punctuated by bright peals of laughter. Bella kisses her forehead, her temples, the apples of her cheeks and the tip of her nose between melodic giggles. Emma has forgotten to care if anyone can see them as a pair of lips brush against her ear. Encircled in her arms, Bella is everywhere, assaulting her senses; there is nothing in this world but Bella, only Bella, nothing else but Bella's skin beneath her hands, Bella's breath mingling with hers, the sound of Bella's joyful laughter.

Emma takes her hand. Together, at last, they swim towards forever.

* * *

a/n:

*heaven is a place on earth plays in the bg*

Hello everyone! been a while. happy pride month to you all! this was meant to be ready in time for mermay, but alas, real life got in the way. Back with some bella x emma fluff, the crackship that was meant to be. pure fluff, i know, i gotta give the gays everything they want. this was originally meant to be around 1k words, but these two just do something to me.

I love reviews, and i love you for reading. on that note, please review! did i mention i love reviews?

thank you so so much for reading, much love and a gay pride month to you all,

A xxxxxxxx


End file.
